


On The Blood-Soaked Precipice

by HoneySuckleCrown, raiast



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder talk as a form of foreplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-WOTL, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-04-11 06:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneySuckleCrown/pseuds/HoneySuckleCrown, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: Will should have known there were still ways in which Hannibal Lecter could invade him. Could tear him apart and twist him back together into a new shape; familiar in a disconcerting way, like a shadow stretched out too thin. A new becoming. Not as heady as killing a dragon, but close.God, he was so close.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 271





	On The Blood-Soaked Precipice

Will should have known there were still ways in which Hannibal Lecter could invade him. Could tear him apart and twist him back together into a new shape; familiar in a disconcerting way, like a shadow stretched out too thin. A new becoming. Not as heady as killing a dragon, but close. _God, he was so close._

“Hannibal, please,” he panted, trying and failing to buck his hips into the torturously slow stroking of Hannibal’s warm, broad palm where it nearly fully encompassed his cock. 

“You were resplendent. A vengeful God enacting his wrath. Leaving naught but a pillar of salt, a river of blood; black and magnificent in the moonlight.” Hannibal’s voice was hypnotic and laced with lust. Will had been given time to doubt many things since their fall; Hannibal’s regard for him wasn’t one of those things. 

Will gasped, his body drawn taut like an arrow notched on a bowstring. He was desperately close, but he knew Hannibal was nowhere near finished with him. Begging sometimes worked, but more often it only enticed Hannibal into dragging things out to unbearable lengths. 

He opted to keep his lips firmly closed. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for the good doctor, two long, firm fingers forcing their way past Will’s all too pliant lips and hooking in his cheek, spreading Will’s jaw open and exposing the white gleam of his teeth. 

“Close,” he mumbled around the intrusion, warm embarrassment flooding his cheeks pink - the color of perfectly cooked meat, his traitorous mind supplied unhelpfully. Will was nothing if not obedient; he’d given himself to this monster and he’d see it through. 

It hadn’t been a conversation so much as an unspoken agreement. Hannibal loved to see Will desperate. Loved to control him in subtle ways while allowing him the freedom to grow and _to become._ After they’d killed Dolarhyde together, Hannibal had been nearly desirous in his need for Will. And Will had been helpless to refuse him, even if he’d wanted to. 

“You’re just as beautiful like this; full of me and still wanting more; ravenous in your hunger. Driven mad with desire,” Hannibal practically purred as he leaned closer, scenting Will just behind his ear, where his curls were sweat-matted and slicked to his skin. 

Hannibal’s tongue followed the line of tears that Will had barely even noticed now stained his cheeks and he rumbled approvingly. He released Will’s jaw, bringing his spit-wet fingers to tease along Will’s rim where it was already stretched painfully wide around the vibrator Hannibal had filled him with hours ago. 

Will did his best to wriggle against his restraints, though it wasn’t the first time Hannibal had trussed him up this way and he knew that no slack would be found. He was grateful at least that his lover had mercy on his thrice-abused shoulder, opting to keep Will’s hands restrained down at his sides rather than stretched out above him. Will gripped the rope that bound his wrists to his thighs, white-knuckled, finally gave in and whimpered an embarrassingly needy _please_ when Hannibal’s fingers began to slip in beside the toy.

The addition had a multitude of effects - his rim burned as it was stretched wider still, the vibrator jostled just enough by the intrusion to send it grazing across Will’s prostate, which caused him to buck violently, even at the frustratingly low setting it had been on since it entered him. The sudden jerk of his lower half forced Hannibal’s fingers further still, caused more friction along his skin where his ankles were bound to his thighs.

His monster let out a pleased hum at Will’s reaction, pressed his fingers deeper with agonizing slowness and teased a third around his entrance. Will trembled beneath him, the entirety of his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He could feel the way his curls were plastered to his skin as he whipped his head from side to side; it was the only part of himself free to move at his discretion, beyond his mouth. Will exploited that freedom as well.

“Oh God, _oh God_, tell me, please tell me -” 

Will needed to come with a greater urgency than he’d ever felt in his life. The privilege would be granted, eventually, as soon as Will figured out what he needed to do to successfully entreat Hannibal. The man was always playing some kind of game, the rules ever-changing and only known to him. Sometimes, he let Will come as soon as he was panting and wriggling and keening Hannibal’s name. Others, it took an indefinable number of pleas falling from his lips. Will was usually patient enough to work out what it was that Hannibal was after, though most of the time he stumbled upon the information completely by accident.

Tonight, he had neither the stamina nor the wherewithal to suss it out.

Hannibal removed his fingers, drawing them out gently as though concerned for Will’s comfort. As though he hadn’t been edging and denying him for hours already.

“You tell me,” Hannibal returned softly. Will whimpered when he saw the man reach to the side to retrieve the remote for the vibrator plugging him up. “You never speak of that night, Will. When I mention it, you let my words fall to the ground as though they weren’t heard. You’ve killed before and you’ve killed since, so I know that your silence is not rooted in shame or guilt. Tell me how Will Graham experienced that night.”

“Through a veil,” Will gasped, but then shook his head violently. That wasn’t true. “No, with stunning clarity. The first real glimpse of you I’d gotten since I first _saw_ you.” He sobbed, his entire body drawn so tense and desperate for a release that he had no control over. Like so much of their relationship had been, Hannibal was at a steep advantage. 

Will could play at this psychological game if that’s what Hannibal was seeking tonight. 

“It was beautiful,” he whimpered, recalling his words uttered in quiet reverence that night. He saw the effect the memory had on Hannibal, his pupils dilating against his will and his breath catching, harsh and ragged in his chest. “Bathed in the blood of the dragon, baptized by the water of the sea. It was the first time I’d felt fully myself, even killing Tier, killing Hobbs, hadn’t been as rapturous. My monster stirred from slumber, but also placated into a restless ease from a blood sacrifice,” Will practically purred, fruitlessly bucking his hips as Hannibal’s hand returned to his cock. 

“I wanted more immediately. I want more _now._” He growled, some of his control slipping even further away from his grasp. 

Suddenly, there was a predatory stillness, a muffled silence, like snow on the ground, as Hannibal turned off the vibrator entirely. Will cried out, almost in pain at the lack of sensation after so long on the cusp. He ground down as best he could, trying to shift the immovable object embedded inside of him, penetrating him in all of the ways Hannibal had yet to. It had been months since their fall, weeks since they’d been healed enough to do something about the simmering arousal that crackled between them like static in the air after a storm. 

But this was all Hannibal had given him. Teasing touches, surrogate objects to spear him open and leave him gasping and broken, but never the real thing. Never what his body craved. After so many years of such honest intimacy, it felt dizzying to not have that after their fall. 

“Hannibal, please. Fuck me, please,” Will groaned, his eyes flying open when the vibrations returned, but _increased._ Hannibal had never used this setting on him before and it was mind-numbingly good; overwhelming in every way. His body thrummed on the precipice of pleasure, stuffed full and the motions hitting his prostate full on, mind still somewhere on a blood-soaked cliff painted black and stark white in the moonlight 

“Come for me, Will. _Now._” Hannibal nearly snarled, his lips drawn back to expose the bright white of his teeth, his canines sharp in the low light of their room. _Dangerous. Predator._

Will’s brain short-circuited as he considered the monster in front of him and his body drew up taut, his cock spilling out across his lower abdomen as he choked on his pleasure, the lust threatening to clog his throat and sear his lungs as he came untouched. 

His orgasm passed in waves, but still, Hannibal let the vibrator run, his hands suddenly all over Will’s body, running along his flanks and fingers pinching viciously at his pebbled nipples. Will let out a sharp howl of pain that crumbled into a needy plea for more. For less. For _something._

Hannibal ripped the vibrator from Will’s red, abused rim and tossed it somewhere across the room where it broke apart from the force of the impact. Will couldn’t spare a thought for the toy before Hannibal was standing between his spread open thighs and sliding his ruddy, hard cock into Will’s pliant hole, filling him up completely in one long, sharp thrust. 

Will sobbed at the sensation, his back arching off the bed as much as his bindings would allow. Hannibal’s low moan at being encompassed by Will sent a new pulse of intoxicating heat through him, even as his over-sensitive body screamed for mercy. Will found all manner of words leaving his mouth - some of them, perhaps, even sensible - begging to be released, begging to be fucked.

Hannibal set a brutal pace, pumping in and out of Will without mercy, and it was a testament to the man’s higher faculties that he was somehow also able to tug skillfully at the knots that bound Will’s legs and arms. He hardly even realized he was free until his fingers were digging claws into the duvet beneath him and his legs were wrapping around Hannibal’s torso to drive him closer. It didn’t matter that his limbs were nearly numb, nor that his hole burned at the stretch of being plugged with a thick cock, nor that his prostate - which Hannibal was sure to tap against with each inward thrust - ricocheted more pain than pleasure through his abused body.

He had Hannibal. _Finally._

“Oh fuck, oh _fuck,_ baby, yeah -” Will babbled, even as a weak, traitorous part of him longed to bid Hannibal to stop. “Fill me, God, please come in me, Hannibal -”

Will choked on his cry as Hannibal pumped into him with renewed vigor once, twice, and then stilled, his cock twitching deep within Will as it flooded him with Hannibal’s release. Will fell limp to the bed, alternately melting into the sheets from his own pleasure and quivering at the sensation of giving Hannibal his.

Hannibal’s heavy weight settled over his body, groin to groin, chest to chest, and he captured Will’s gasping mouth to steal a long, slow kiss.

“My beautiful Will,” he rumbled, pressing soft kisses to Will’s jaw, neck. “How lucky I was to find you.”

“I found myself,” Will murmured deliriously, his head spinning as though he’d imbibed too much whiskey and body heavy as though he’d been drugged. “On a blood-soaked cliff, beneath the light of the moon.”

Hannibal hummed his agreement against Will’s thumping pulse, his heart beating out a staccato cadence against his ribs in Memoriam.

**Author's Note:**

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